


This Must Be The Place

by somethinglikecatharsis



Category: Hawkeye (Comics)
Genre: Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, platonic hawkeye fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 21:12:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12713061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethinglikecatharsis/pseuds/somethinglikecatharsis
Summary: So the Hawkeyes like each other. And Bed-Stuy isn't bad at all. And there's pizza and beer and TV. It's a little bit more domestic than they're used to, but that's okay.





	This Must Be The Place

Kate wants to say it's a begrudging sort of thing, their friendship, but the truth is she wants him as much as Clint  _needs_ her. So it's a pretty solid deal they've got going on. Clint Barton and Katie Bishop by day, and Hawkeye and Hawkeye by night (it's a lot more flexible than that, but it's fine, it sounds way catchier this way).

Kate sits on Clint's couch and has beer and pizza, and Clint joins her as they watch whatever bad tv is on, because- well truthfully it's because they don't really have paying jobs, so they both have the luxury of slumming around at 2 in the afternoon in Clint's loft. It sounds a lot more like they're college burnouts, and less like they're rich superheroes.

"Katie," Clint says in between munches of his pizza, and his tone of voice is an absent one. She's sure he has nothing of importance to say. She leans in closer to him and there is a ghost of a smile on her face as she hums her acknowledgement. They lapse back into a silence, and it's a comfortable, familiar sort of silence. She practically lives in the loft, when they're not off doing their respective hero businesses with their respective age appropriate hero teams, and it isn't like they're chatting it up 24/7 (Kate has her limits too). So they're quiet and they're eating pizza and drinking cheap beer and watching housewives create drama in whatever county they live in.

"Nothing, actually," Clint admits after some time. Kate hums knowingly. Clint, though he has height and size on her, sinks into the contact they have in between them. Kate has no complaints. It's rare that he initiates this. Best friend or no, Clint is particular about the  _who_ and  _when_  of touching. He never vocally expresses it, at least he hasn't to her, but she's seen it in the tight line of his mouth when the tenants of his (lord,  _Clint Barton_ is an Avenger and land-lord) building congratulate him and thank him. Grill had been quick on the uptake, hugging him once and never again (the thought of him sets her heart at unease, and her eyes flicker to Clint's, as if he could sense her thoughts). Kate had no problems with it herself, and besides, he was comfortable enough with her most of the time, so she didn't think he minded either when she did things like wipe lint off his shirt, or lean a sarcastic elbow on his shoulder, or poke his chest in smug triumph.

So, yeah, Kate sinks into him too. It's nice, anyway. Winter was fast approaching and more warmth was always appreciated. Clint Barton is Kate Bishop's partner, and more importantly, her best friend, and they're sort of cuddling on the couch, and in a little bit they would have to get up because the world would call for more Hawkeye, so this is good, this is fine.

* * *

Clint eventually buys a mattress. It's waiting in a box outside the apartment when Kate comes over in the morning. She brings it in. It's in a box that's far too small for a mattress to fit in. She's curious to see whether it's compressed and will expand the moment the box opens (it's always so satisfying to her, watching things that are far smaller than they should be become the size that they normally are), or if it's an IKEA mattress that has to be assembled step by step. The former made more sense than the latter, but since when had Clint 'You're Hawkeye, and I'm Hawkeye too' Barton ever been an advocate for things that were practical and made sense?

"Clint? You home?" she calls out, walking up the loft. The bedroom is empty, but there is a single yellow post-it on the pillow.

_katie,_

_got a hawkeye thing, don't know when i'll be back. lucky is with aimee. don't open the package._

So, Kate goes back downstairs and kind of sits in the kitchen and does nothing for a little bit. It's not technically her home. She had clothes stashed here for emergencies, and for when she's too dead tired to go anywhere else. But, well, she's spent almost all of her free time here, with Clint. It isn't like she comes here every day. She has her adventures too, and she spends time at her place with her team. It's just that this apartment in stupid Bed-Stuy has been-

Kate wants to say  _home_ , but it catches in her mind. She settles on Bed-Stuy (it's  _Bed-Stuy_ for crying out loud) feeling like a break. A mini vacation every time she visits her best friend/mentor/partner. It's like... a Hawkeye cave. A place for any and all Hawkeyes to congregate and have it feel nice and comfortable. Bed-Stuy. Yep.

There isn't a date on the post-it, but Kate catches that Clint's been gone for a week and a half from Aimee when she gets their proud pizza dog back into his humble abode. Kate absently wishes Clint well, like she was throwing a hope up into the air and hoping it caught onto him. Lucky yaps and licks her face and runs around in circles. Kate decides to order a pizza. Lucky snuggles with her on the couch as she kills time on her phone. He sniffs the air after a little bit, and Kate knows that pizza is right outside the door. Sure enough, the doorbell rings, and Kate crosses the apartment to open to door, Lucky yapping behind her.

It's Clint. He holds the pizzas up, and his face is kind of beat up, there are bruises dotting his cheek, his chin, his forehead. His lip is split and there are bandages and plasters on him. He smiles at Kate, and wouldn't you believe it, Kate's already been smiling at him.

"Hi. Mind if I come in?" he asks courteously, because Clint is ever the gentleman and Kate is the kind of high-society girl that deserves a little bit of grace and chivalry, the kind you can only ever find in someplace like Bed-Stuy. He even paid for the pizza, took it from the delivery guy and everything. He should be addressed as  _Monsieur_ Clint Barton right now with how fancy he's being.

Kate lifts the lid of one box up and takes a slice. Lucky is wagging his tail. She takes another slice for him. Clint frowns. She pauses, thinking for a while.

"Fine, you can come in now," she says, only after taking a long chew of her slice and placing Lucky's slice in his bowl. She smirks at his eye-roll. Charming. Utterly charming, the both of them.

Kate does take the boxes of pizza off him and places it on the kitchen counter, because okay, jokey jokes aside, she is actually happy to see Clint.

"How'd it go?" she asks him as he sniffs the old pot of coffee in in only mild disgust. He carefully takes a sip still, then makes a face, muttering  _Aw, coffee._  Kate takes the ice pack she keeps in the freezer and hands it to Clint as he throws the old pot of coffee in the sink and goes about making a new one with one hand as he holds the ice pack against the lump forming on his cheek.

"It was alright. Stakeout kind of deal. Then it turned into an international crisis sort of deal. It was fun, Daredevil was there," he shrugs. Kate almost chokes on her pizza.

"A deaf archer and a blind ninja? Were you guys like a buddy-cop comedy duo or," she rests against the island in the kitchen and laughs at Clint's frown. He takes the ice pack off to scowl at her. Kate puts her pizza down on a plate and takes a spare clean rag, wetting it in the sink. She closes in on Clint and with slow and deliberate movements, moves the rag closer to him, waiting for him to pull away, giving him a chance to relax. He does nothing, so Kate tips his chin up and cleans the blood still caked around some cuts. Clint leans into her touch after a little bit, and Kate can almost sink into the warmth too. His smile is a little dopey, and Kate sticks her tongue out at him.

The coffee maker clicks as it drips the last of it into the pot. Clint grabs a couple of mugs, pulling away from Kate. She sets the rag back down and picks her slice of pizza up. So, they're drinking coffee and eating pizza and the apartment they basically shared, and Kate thinks okay, maybe a little bit of domesticity is pretty okay with her right now. Hawkeye and Hawkeye, tackling the normal life just a smidge. It's just another adventure, another mission with her partner.

"So, what's with the mattress?" Kate asks as she sips on her drink. Clint hums in acknowledgement and moves over to the box, grabbing an arrow lying around.

"I figured, if you're going to be around so much," he twirls the arrow around in his fingers absently, cocking his head as he weighs his words. Kate gets the sense that he'd been practicing this little speech for a while. "I've only got the one bed, so..." he trails off as he uses the arrow head to slice through the tape around the box.

"So that's my mattress?" Kate quirks a brow.

"What? No. It's mine. You get the bed," he leaves out the  _obviously_ , but Clint Barton, as much of a super-spy he is, cannot hide certain things from Kate. He can't hide his affection, or his self-loathing, and he can't hide the little uncomfortable lilt he has when he decides to do something nice and generous for somebody he actually cares about.

"Clint," Kate says, and her tone of voice, she hopes, signals to him what he already knows- that Kate is grateful, she always will be, and that he's a good person despite evidence to the contrary. It's easier than telling him that hey, you're my best friend, I kind of like love you, of course I appreciate it when you do nice shit for me. He glances at her briefly, but goes back to cutting. "I wanna open the box," she says finally. Clint furrows his brow, but relents.

It's an expanding mattress. It's very satisfying. Kate is happy with it. Clint shoves it in the corner, and they both clapped the dust off their hands and proclaimed it a job well done and went back to pizza in a familiar rhythm. So, yeah. Kate's okay to say that she's pretty happy here. With Clint Barton. In Bed-Stuy.


End file.
